Snippets of Love
by warriors1011
Summary: Small snapshots of various couples from when I played Awakening and Fates.


**So my younger sister got me into Fire Emblem Awakening a little while back and enjoyed watching me struggle playing the game. But she was most curious about the pairings I would make and soon after finishing all the couples, she pushed me to write a little fanfic using my favorite. I couldn't find one for my favorite but instead found one for my second favorite pairing, KellamXPanne.**

 **Based on this prompt: _Give me more of Person A helping Person B with simple tasks, like brushing their hair, or putting on jewelry, where it's obviously an excuse to be close to each other, but neither is complaining_** _._

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Panne ran her fingers through her muddied, matted mess of hair. The most recent spar against one of the more capable man-spawn had been a little different, the man-spawn throwing dirt and grass at her in desperation. Grumbling, she absentmindedly yanked much too hard on one thick knot and yelped a little. Removing her fingers her hair, she washed them in the river she was sitting next to, cleaning the dirt from under her nails.

A scent struck her, a smell so distinct it stood out. It was accompanied by a different smell, one that had a faint scent of … daisies? Sniffing a little more, she tried to find more information. Wood and animal hair were the main scents. Where was the daisy scent coming from?

"Hey." Panne jerked at the sudden voice. Somehow, the quiet voice was able to startle her when she was in deep thought.

"Hello man-spawn." Panne greeted, albeit a little stiffly.

Kellam nodded in response. An awkward silence condensed as the two stared at each other.

"Well human, is there something you'd like to say?" Panne asked the large, armored human that had claimed her feelings.

"Yes. I saw the spar. You did amazing. Although the throwing mud at you wasn't particularly fair." Kellam responded, sitting down next to her.

Panne scoffed. "War is not always fair, man-spawn."

Kellam hummed in agreement. He pulled out a wooden object and handed it to Panne. "Here. It's a brush. It should help you with your hair."

Panne eyed the object with slight distaste. "I assume it is not yours?"

Kellam chuckled softly. "No, not at all. I… sort of took it from Maribelle's tent. She has a million brushes."

Panne fingered the object in Kellam's hands. The back was so intricately carved. And was that a daisy? Panne took the brush from Kellam and sniffed it and…. There, the faintest smell of daisy. Although it was overpowered by the smell of fat and bone and hair.

"I don't believe I understand. What is this to help me with?"

"Well, it's-ah… here, why don't I brush your hair so you get the idea." Kellam offered, holding out his hand for the brush.

Panne gave the delicate thing back to him.

"Turn around so the back of your head's facing me. There. Now move your ears so they don't get in the way… there we go."

Kellam began to run the bristles over the tips of her dark hair. Slowly and gently he made his way up a little farther. Little by little, Panne could feel his brushstrokes getting easier. She almost felt the tension in her hair releasing as smaller knots undid themselves. In awe, she pulled a strand of hair forward and inspected it.

"Would you like to try it now?" Kellam asked.

Panne hesitated. Playing with the now unmatted tips of her hair, Panne remembered the long nights of yanking on knots and patience wearing thin on really bad days.

"No. I rather prefer not to use human tools." Panne replied, flicking the strand of hair back.

"Oh. Well, I guess I give this back to Maribelle th-"

"That does not mean I don't mind _you_ using such tools to help me," Panne remarked, a slight blush forming. Panne could just feel the soft smile on Kellam's lips.

The pair stayed at the riverside for hours. Kellam brushed her hair, Panne cleaned the dirt and mud from her fur or made bracelets from the surroundings. They relished this peaceful time they never got in camp.

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 _There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word._

\- From A Glimpse by Walt Whitman

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 **I would love any constructive criticism you have for me! Thanks for taking the time to read!**


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